Spies Got Mail
by Red Witch
Summary: What goes on in the mailroom stays in the mailroom.


**Milton once again took off with the disclaimer that I don't own any Archer characters. This takes place shortly after my other fic It's a Dirty Job and before the episode Pocket Listing. Ever wonder what kind of mail our gang gets? Well I did…**

 **Spies Got Mail**

"So nobody thought to check the mail room all this time after we reopened the office?" Lana asked as she went down the hallway with Cyril and Ray.

"I didn't even know we had a mail room," Cyril said honestly.

"Where do you think the mail comes from? Santa Claus?" Lana asked.

"Who goes down to the mail room unless they work there?" Ray argued. "Some spy agency we work for. Not only do we not have any support staff, no armory and have to be our own janitors, now we have to sort our own damn mail!"

"This agency has kind of gone downhill over the years," Cyril added.

"I think we've **passed** downhill Cyril and gone straight into the sewers," Lana told him. "And not just figuratively."

"Don't remind me…" Cyril moaned. "Yesterday was a nightmare!"

"I remember a time when it actually **meant** something to be a field agent around here," Ray kept complaining. "Now we're barely little more than field hands!"

"Hey it beats selling cocaine," Lana said as she got the key out and opened the door to the mail room.

"She does have a point," Cyril agreed.

Lana opened the door and turned on the light. Everywhere were piles of mail and magazines all over the place. On the floor. On tables. Packages stacked in piles. "What the…?"

"I guess they just dump the mail here and leave it," Ray blinked.

"How the….?" Lana looked around. "How could it get this backed up? I mean…?"

"Well there's some kind of large slot over there," Ray pointed. "I mean it is on the first floor behind the laundromat. And Mallory said she paid to have whoever delivers the mail have a special key or something. I guess they just come in, dump the stuff and leave."

"It's not the post office?" Cyril asked.

"She said it was some special branch of the post office," Lana admitted as she looked through the piles. "I don't understand it either. My God. Some of this stuff has been here since…Before the office closed last year."

"You mean they just kept sending mail even after the raid?" Ray was stunned.

"Wow. We really should have done this before now," Cyril blinked.

"Ugh this is going to take **forever,** " Ray rolled his eyes. "Especially with only the three of us!"

"I get why Archer isn't down here doing this," Cyril remarked. "He never does any work. But why isn't Cheryl down here helping us?"

"You really think it's a good idea to let **Cheryl** do this?" Ray gave Cyril a look. "Let her loose in a room full of paper. **Flammable** paper?"

"Especially the Arbor Day incident?" Lana added.

"Refresh my memory, how many people died in the fire?" Cyril asked.

"Only one but it turned out he died from a drug overdose before the fire," Ray explained. "Apparently he had one too many of Krieger's breath strips."

"Well what about Pam? What's she doing?" Lana asked.

"Pam's doing **something** with Krieger in his lab," Ray said. "I have no idea what and I hope to never find out."

Meanwhile in Krieger's Lab…

"Okay Pam now when I finish connecting these wires I need you to push that button and we'll be good to go," Krieger instructed as he finished working on a strange looking machine.

"Got it. So what exactly does this do hickey do again?" Pam asked.

"Well it will do either one of three things," Krieger said. "One is that it will open a hole in the space time continuum. Allowing us to teleport ourselves to new and exciting dimensions."

"Cool, what are the other two things?" Pam asked.

"Well if I got the specs wrong it will either blow up or become a glorified microwave and make some kick ass popcorn," Krieger shrugged.

"Oh I wondered what the popcorn kernels were for," Pam nodded.

"Yeah," Krieger went over to a bin and got some tongs. He picked up a green glowing rod out of another bin. "Hmmm…Probably should have put on the containment suits in case this thing really is radioactive."

Back to the mail room.

"Yeah this is definitely better," Ray shuddered.

"Why don't we just sort things for now?" Lana suggested.

"Fine," Ray looked through one pile of mail and started sorting. "This isn't mine. This isn't mine. Ah, Skier's Monthly! This **is** mine!"

"I meant for **all** of us!" Lana groaned. "Look there's some bins and markers. I'll make some labels and then we can sort things where they belong."

"Oh goody," Cyril groaned. "Hey! My Elevator Enthusiasts magazine is here. I wondered what happened to it. Oh it says it's the last issue. Poor circulation."

"What a shock," Ray grumbled under his breath.

"Well at least it's something for me to read later," Cyril put it in his bin.

"It looks like we're all going to have a lot of reading later," Ray remarked.

"Look if we all work together we can get this done in a few hours," Lana said as she finished. "Think of it this way, it's a few hours without Archer or Mallory."

"Okay now I'm on board," Ray admitted.

"All right. Now I've labeled them all. Me, Mallory, Archer…" Lana pointed to the newly labeled bins. "Cyril, Ray, Pam, Krieger and Cheryl. And one more for miscellaneous."

"Miscellaneous?" Cyril asked.

"People who don't work here anymore," Lana explained.

"You mean dead?" Ray raised an eyebrow.

"Probably not," Lana fidgeted. "It's possible."

"Well here's a bill for ping pong paddles," Cyril picked one up.

"Archer," They all said as one. Cyril threw it in Archer's bin.

"There's a ton of magazines here," Ray grabbed some. "Hmmm…4H Club, Holsteins, Fish Fighting Monthly, Heifer Monthly, Cow Couture…"

"Pam," Everyone said as one.

"That's pretty easy," Ray threw the magazines in the bin. "Speaking of easy, here are a few ones for Cheryl."

"Are you sure?" Cyril asked as he sorted some bills into Mallory's bin.

"They've got her dang names on them," Ray said.

"You mean name," Lana corrected as she sorted some letters.

"No, I mean **names** ," Ray said. "As in plural. She's got Ocelot Care and Carnivorous Plants Care for Cheryl. Heiress Monthly and a catalog for firefighter supplies for Carol. A few country music magazines under Cherlene. Esquire under Crystal. Here's a new one. A Disney Princess Magazine for Cherylina."

"Oh goody," Cyril groaned. "A brand new personally we have yet to meet. So looking forward to that!"

"Why would Cheryl have a magazine about carnivorous plants?" Ray asked. "And why do I have the feeling I **don't** want to know the answer to that question?" He shuddered and threw it in her bin.

"Here's some letters for Pam," Lana sorted several letters. "From Jamaica. Actually from a prison in Jamaica. Guess she made some pen pals there."

"Geezy Pete there must be like thirty letters at least," Cyril whistled.

"Well you know our Pam. She likes to make friends everywhere," Ray remarked as he kept sorting magazines. "How many magazines are there devoted to fish fighting? She's got like five different ones. One in Japanese."

"Must be one of her Yakuza friends," Lana groaned. "Yeah she's got a couple of postcards from Japan. Pretty explicit ones actually."

"Speaking of explicit here's your copy of Penthouse Cyril," Ray snickered as he threw a magazine in Cyril's bin.

"They have good articles in there," Cyril said weakly.

"Sure they do," Lana snorted.

"And some Penthouse for Archer, Krieger and…Pam," Ray threw them in the appropriate bins. "And one for Brett."

"I'll take that one," Cyril took it. "Hey it's not like he can use it anymore!"

"Oh you guys are disgusting," Lana huffed.

"Then I guess you don't want this issue of Playgirl?" Ray teased.

"I like the articles!" Lana grabbed it.

"Sure you do," Ray and Cyril chimed in.

"And some Playgirl for Pam, Cheryl, Mallory…" Ray sorted the magazines. "And…uh…" He threw one in his bin.

"Yeah like that's a shocker!" Lana snorted. "Ray you got a letter from Jamaica too."

"Ooh goody!" Ray cheered as Lana put it in. "Pam said I might get a letter from her friend Chino. She showed me some pictures. He seemed nice."

"Geeze Ray what is it with you and your bad boy fixation?" Lana groaned as she sorted some mail.

"Oh look who's talking!" Ray spat out.

"Yeah Lana!" Cyril snapped. "Paging Denial. Dr. Denial line one!"

"Archer is like the ultimate bad boy," Ray agreed. "He's so textbook they have his picture in several medical magazines. Especially with all the venereal diseases that originated from him."

"Let's just get back to work," Lana groaned as she sorted some magazines. "Wow…There are a lot of porn magazines that are sent to this office."

"And not all of them are Archer's or Cyril's," Ray quipped. Cyril glared at him. "I'm just teasin', Cyril. We all have our carnal desires and needs."

"As evidenced by this issue of Gay Men In Tight Pants," Cyril showed Ray.

"They have some really cute guys in really tight pants," Ray admitted as he took the magazine away from Cyril and put it in his bin.

"Bill, bill, bill…" Lana sorted.

"Ooh! Yes! I'd love to have a Bill," Ray chirped. "Or a Johnny or a Ted. Or a Daryl…"

"I mean there are a lot of bills for Mallory," Lana said. "Overdue bills. For damages. On a lot of places where we had missions."

"Oh **those,** " Ray sniffed. "Pass!"

"Lot of overdue bills here," Cyril realized.

"Only Ms. Archer and her son are stupid enough to have their bills sent to the office," Ray then noticed something. "And Krieger. Here's a bill for some kind of radioactive waste company."

"A radioactive waste **disposal** company?" Cyril asked.

"I hope so," Ray groaned. "But knowing Krieger…."

"Here's a catalog," Cyril picked one up. "For…Women's personal pleasure devices. For Ms. Archer."

"Uhhhhhhgghhh!" They all shuddered as one as Cyril threw the magazine in the bin.

"We should get hazard pay for handling some of this," Ray shuddered.

"Here's a lacrosse magazine for Archer," Lana looked. "And another lacrosse magazine…dedicated to South Pacific pirate lacrosse teams. Huh. I guess there really is a magazine for everything nowadays."

"Ray you got some post cards and letters," Cyril blinked. "From Germany, Canada, Switzerland, Greece…"

"Oh those are some of my pals from my days as an Olympic athlete," Ray waved. "I may have lost the men's slalom but I did make some interesting friends. We keep in touch from time to time."

"Who's **this** one?" Lana held up a letter. "Lord Thomas Feathercatcher?"

"Ahh, uh, sponsor!" Ray coughed. "Olympic sponsor. Put it in the bin."

"It's postmarked from New Jersey," Lana blinked.

"Bin! Put it in the bin!" Ray snatched it and put it in his bin.

"How the hell did you manage to get on the cover of Yacht Interior Monthly?" Cyril saw another magazine and picked it up. "That is you right?"

"Oh that's an old picture," Ray waved as he took the magazine and put it in his bin. "I did a favor for a friend of a friend and leave it at that."

"You got a lot of advertisements too for the Snug? Isn't that…?" Cyril realized.

"The bar I hang out at sometimes, yes," Ray nodded. "Put it in the bin. Aww, I missed Fetish Night."

"And what's **this?** " Lana picked up a large manila envelope. "What's the SGC?"

"Oh I wondered when one of those would come my way," Ray frowned as he took it and put it in his bin. "It's a Chess Club by mail."

"Since when do **you** play chess?" Lana asked.

"Since when do you know everything about my life Miss Nosy Parker?" Ray gave her a look.

"Why do I have the feeling that your private life is way more interesting than you let on?" Cyril asked.

"Oh really?" Ray noticed another magazine. "What about **your** private life?"

"What about it?" Cyril asked.

"Fur-Real Fun and Frolic?" Ray held it up.

"Oh my god! Is that the thing where people dress up in costumes as animals and…?" Lana's jaw dropped.

"Yup," Ray grinned. "Care to explain Cyril?"

"I only did it once!" Cyril snapped. "During my sex addiction down spiral."

"And when was your up spiral?" Ray asked. "Because I think we all missed that!"

"Very funny! I also got one for Archer as a joke," Cyril showed Ray as he picked up a magazine. Then he noticed something else. "But I didn't get one for Krieger."

"Honestly I'm not surprised he's into that too," Lana groaned as she sorted some magazines. "Oh my God. Cheryl and Pam also have copies of that magazine."

"We really should start some kind of support group or something," Cyril remarked. "Oh hey! I got an issue of Tyrant Weekly! And my Risk Enthusiasts newsletter! All right! Looks like they published my letter!"

"Krieger and Pam got an alien conspiracy magazine," Ray noticed as he sorted. "Correction. A couple of different alien conspiracy magazines."

"Modern Doula Magazine…" Lana saw something that caught her eye. "I guess Archer got himself on some kind of list." She threw it in Archer's bin.

"As well as a catalog for some art classes in Tribeca," Cyril noticed something and threw it in Archer's bin. "Huh. I've been meaning to take some art classes myself one day."

"Archer also has something called the Alligator Attack Chronicle," Ray read. "A yearly report on the alligator threat in the United States and abroad."

"Phrenology Today?" Cyril took out some more magazines. "Humor Me: The Magazine to study the humors of the human body. 101 Outdated Medical Practices You Can Still Use For Fun…Krieger has a lot of weird magazines too."

"And as the guy he usually experiments on that worries me," Ray groaned. "Oh goody, a wheelchair catalog. Better keep it with my luck…Ooh! My cat magazine is here! I wondered about that."

"Cat magazine?" Cyril asked.

"I like cats," Ray admitted. "Ooh! I got a letter from Alexandro! He's that cute little soldier from San Marcos. We had some nice walks around the palace in the moonlight. Ahhh…Good times."

"You're not the only one who got a letter from San Marcos," Cyril picked up a letter. "It's from Chichi! And it's scented! That little minx!"

"Is that the maid that made up your bedchamber? The one with the mole?" Ray asked.

"It wasn't that big a mole," Cyril said. "We shared a few…private moments together."

"I know. We could hear you two down the hallway," Ray smirked.

"I was the dictator at the time! Why not enjoy a few perks?" Cyril asked.

"You enjoyed a lot of perks during that time," Lana remarked.

Cyril sighed wistfully. "Those were some of the best weeks of my life. Well up until the marines invaded and the missile launch."

"Speaking of missiles Krieger has some kind of magazine in German devoted to missile building," Ray sorted a few magazines. "As well as something called Wrestlers vs. Robots. And Pam has one too."

"Am I the only one around here who doesn't use this office as her secondary mailbox?" Lana asked.

"Again…Playgirl?" Ray gave her a look.

"Okay maybe a little…What's this? A Glengoolie Blue catalog?" Lana groaned as she picked up a magazine.

"Archer," Cyril and Ray said at the same time.

"How did you ever **guess**?" Lana threw it in Archer's bin. "And here's a package for Krieger."

"Is it ticking?" Cyril asked.

"Is it **alive**?" Ray recoiled.

"No to either of those," Lana frowned. "I'll just carefully put it in his bin." She cautiously put it in. "I'm sure it won't explode. Right?"

"It could be just a book or a model train or…?" Cyril postulated. "Or I don't really want to know."

"And I don't really want to know why Krieger is a member of something called the Insane Scientists That Want To Get Back At the League of Evil Club For Not Letting Them In," Lana looked at another letter. "Or why this letter is especially thick."

"Again be careful putting that in," Cyril cautioned.

"This magazine is obviously Krieger's," Ray read. "Light Waves: The Magazine for those who love holograms too much and aren't ashamed of it."

"Here's one called Portable Restrooms…" Cyril blinked. "Which is exactly what it sounds like. For Pam. And she also has something called Sheep. Which Krieger also has a copy of."

"Modern Drunkard…Archer," Ray sorted. "Surprise. Surprise. And one for Pam too. Several issues of Mad magazine for Archer, Pam and Krieger."

"Bombs and Babes…For Archer, Pam and Krieger…" Ray sorted some more magazines. "I'm sensing a pattern here."

"Here's some magazines in German so I guess they're for Krieger," Lana saw some more. "Yeah that's his name. And based on the pictures of these weird mutant sheep I don't think I **want** to know what's in them." She threw the magazines in Krieger's bin.

"Here's a few letters from Japan and they're addressed to Pam," Cyril sorted.

"Probably more of her Yakuza friends," Ray remarked.

"A Bear's Life? What the…? This has nothing to do with bears!" Cyril blinked as he looked at one magazine. "It's just a guy in leather…"

"I'll take that," Ray quickly grabbed it and threw it in his bin. "Heh, heh…" He blushed a little bit.

"Guess you're into a little fur too huh Ray?" Lana teased.

"Only the natural kind," Ray told her.

"A private islands magazine for Cheryl…" Lana noticed. She looked through it. "I don't believe it. You can actually **buy** an island from this magazine! For millions of dollars!"

"Are you **serious**?" Ray's jaw dropped.

"Look!" Lana showed them.

"Geezy Pete!" Cyril whistled.

"Can you imagine owning your own **island**?" Ray was stunned.

"That would be so cool," Cyril said enviously. "I could be a dictator again! And this time I wouldn't have to worry about being invaded by the marines! That would be awesome!"

"I know right?" Ray said enviously. "Oh…I would love my own island! Then I could just retire and spend my days at the beach. Not to mention really rub it in the faces of all those people who called me trailer trash when I was growing up!"

"I'd call my father," Cyril agreed. "Hey old man! Guess what's new? Oh nothing, except I just bought my own **friggin' island**! And you thought I'd never amount to anything! Well who's the loser now? Oh man that would be so sweet to rub it in his fat face!"

"Not to mention Archer's face," Ray smirked. "And Ms. Archer's."

"Oh she would die of envy," Cyril snickered. Mockingly clutching his heart and making choking noises. "Oh why do **you** get an island and I don't?! Sterling…you're such a disappointment…AAAKK!"

"That would totally happen," Ray laughed. "If anything can kill that woman that would do it. Besides liver failure."

"You think Cheryl might own her own island?" Lana asked as she put the magazine in the proper bin. "Her brother does. She could have one too."

"Who knows?" Ray shrugged as they went back to work. "If she does knowing her she probably forgot all about it."

"Oh look, Rats R Us, a catalog for lab animals," Cyril groaned. "Definitely Krieger. And Archer has a catalog for…catalogs? That's just redundant."

"Everyone has such interesting mail," Lana commented. "All I'm mostly getting is sales advertisements. Here's one for a store opening. And another of that same store's sales. And that store's going out of business sales…within three months."

"Wow a lot really did happen while we were away didn't it?" Cyril remarked.

"This one is definitely Mallory's…" Lana looked at a magazine. "Looks like some kind of upper East End home showcase. East Enders, for those who can afford it. And those that can't…Who cares about you?"

"That's what it **says**?" Cyril asked.

"Swear to God," Lana showed him before putting it in Mallory's bin.

"Here's another one," Ray pulled some magazines out. "Apocalypse Wow. The fashion and fun magazine for surviving the apocalypse in style."

"That's Pam right?" Lana asked.

"Correct," Ray sorted them. "And a few for Krieger and Archer…"

"Does anyone around here read **real** magazines?" Lana groaned.

"I just got my Risk newsletter," Cyril said. "That's real-ish."

"And I got my copy of Tea Time," Ray showed them. "Oooh, the new Royal Doulton! How nice!"

"I mean **real** magazines!" Lana barked. "Magazines about real news and real issues."

"My Out And About magazine has real news and issues!" Ray protested.

"And so does my Accounting Weekly!" Cyril showed her.

"I mean real news-news magazines!" Lana told them. "Magazines like Time or Newsweek. Not…Ostrich Farming for Fun."

"Pam or Cheryl?" Ray asked.

"Technically it's for Crystal," Lana groaned as she threw it in Cheryl's bin.

"Here's a catalog specializing in turtlenecks!" Ray took one out. "Guess who?"

"Guess this one," Cyril pulled another magazine out. "Genetic Scramble. The magazine for people who love to play with DNA."

"Catchy title," Ray said.

"It even has recipes in it," Cyril blinked before putting it in Krieger's bin. "How to build a better mutant chicken."

"Sounds like that chicken is already fried before you cook it," Ray snorted.

"How many cow magazines **are there**?" Lana asked as she sorted. "And why does Pam need to subscribe to them all?"

"I think that one is for Krieger," Cyril pointed. "She must have got it for him as a gift."

"Oh right," Lana realized before putting it in the correct bin. "Random Facts Magazine…For Archer. Huh. That explains a lot."

"Working Mother Magazine?" Ray snorted as he read another one.

"I'm a working mother!" Lana fumed. "There's nothing funny about that!"

"It's addressed for Mallory Archer," Ray showed her.

"Oh yeah. That is funny," Cyril giggled.

"Here I'll take off the label and I'll put it in your bin," Ray said as he began to do so.

"You can't do that! That's wrong!" Lana protested. "And illegal!"

"Lana after all the things we've done over the years, a little mail fraud is the **least** of our problems," Ray gave her a look.

"He does have a point," Cyril said.

"Still it's not right," Lana folded her arms.

"Neither is giving Ms. Archer a magazine with an article entitled," Ray read. "Being a better mother through abstinence. How giving up sex and alcohol strengthened the bond with my child."

"You could always just hand it to her personally," Cyril smirked. "I'd **love** to see that!"

"We'd all love to see that," Ray grinned as he handed her the magazine.

"Well…On the other hand, there are some good cooking articles in here," Lana hesitated. "And I could always just give her the magazine after I read it."

"Tell me when you do," Ray quipped. "I'd **love** to get that on film."

"Then again…" Lana sighed as she took off the label and put it in her bin. "She wouldn't really appreciate it anyway."

"Neither would she truly appreciate this magazine about high society life," Ray smirked as he took off another label for another magazine and put it in his bin.

"And I don't think Archer would truly appreciate this magazine about cigars," Cyril did so with another magazine and put it in his bin. "He doesn't read much anyway."

"And he certainly doesn't need **two** catalogs of Glengoolie Blue," Ray pointed out by grabbing the magazine for himself.

"Or three," Cyril grabbed one for himself. "Here's a porn magazine I've never seen before. Cambodian Cuties. I'll take that."

Lana glared at him. "Really?"

"Variety is the spice of life," Cyril shrugged. "And I'll take this Whore Island one too."

"Here's another Working Mother Monthly you can have Lana," Ray took one and removed the label. "Oh this one is good. Trudy Beekman has an article in it."

"I guess she probably doesn't want those anyway," Lana wisely grabbed all the Working Mother Monthly magazines she could find and took the labels off.

"Knowing her you'd be doing her a favor," Ray pointed out.

"Here's a parking ticket addressed to Archer," Cyril sorted more letters. "And another one addressed to him. And another one. And yet another one…"

"I'm sensing a pattern here," Ray quipped. "That one just says Archer. Not Mr."

"So?" Cyril asked.

"Put it in his mother's bin," Ray smirked.

"That is wicked!" Lana giggled as Cyril did so. "Oh this bill just says Archer too. Guess I have no idea who it's for. Even if it is for Whore Island Magazine. Guess I'll put it in Mallory's too!"

"She is gonna have a fiiiiiiiittt!" Ray giggled. "Ooh! An Absinthe catalog! Mine!"

"You know this is actually kind of fun," Cyril remarked.

"Here's some jury duty summons for Carol and Cheryl," Ray snorted as he put them in the bin. "This should be interesting."

"I can't see Cheryl on a jury," Lana said. "In **front** of a jury definitely but not on a jury."

"Look at all these magazines!" Cyril sorted more. "How did I get a subscription to Word Search Magazine?"

"Can't be Archer. It's not insulting enough," Ray frowned.

"Eh, I'll keep it," Cyril put it in his bin.

"Bill, bill, bill…Summons to appear in court for child support payments," Lana sorted. "Anything that doesn't say Mr. Archer I'm giving to Mallory. Which is a lot of them."

"To be fair she's the one paying the bills," Ray said. "And here's another. How many damn furs does that woman need to buy?"

"Here's a bunch of fur catalogs," Lana frowned. "Great. Not only are they murdering animals for fashion, they're wiping out entire forests to sell their blood product!"

"Says the woman wearing leather boots," Ray pointed out.

"That's different! We at least eat cows too!" Lana protested.

"How is that…?" Cyril began.

"It just is!" Lana snapped. "Mallory really doesn't need these!" She took the magazines and put them in the recyclable bin. "This is a protest for the environment!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Ray snickered.

"And Archer doesn't need any more porn!" Lana threw out a few more men's magazines.

"And he certainly doesn't need this package from Glengoolie Blue," Cyril took out a well wrapped box.

"Okay a few magazines are one thing but that's going too far!" Lana said.

"Too far?" Ray gave her a look. "All the times Archer's carelessness has paralyzed me. **That's** going too far! All the times his jack-assery has disrupted missions and made our lives miserable. **That's** going too far!"

"Not to mention all the times he's run off to go bang whores all over the world instead of **facing** his problems?" Cyril added. "Like when his **daughter** was born?"

"Give me that package," Lana took it and ripped it open. "Oh it seems to have accidentally been opened already."

"Oh yeah, now it's a party!" Ray whooped.

An explosion was heard. "Do I smell popcorn?" Cyril blinked.

Meanwhile…

"Holy Popcorn Snacks!" Pam gasped as popcorn flew everywhere. It was already covering the entire floor of the room.

"Okay who wants free popcorn?" Krieger called out cheerfully as Archer, Mallory and Cheryl entered the lab.

"I thought I smelled popcorn," Archer remarked. "That's a relief. I thought I was having an aneurysm."

"Why would you equate popcorn with…? Never mind!" Mallory groaned. "Krieger, Pam what in God's name are you idiots doing now?"

"Making popcorn! Duh!" Pam said as she munched on some. "Dig in there's plenty!"

"And another day of cracker jack research and efficiency at the agency," Mallory said sarcastically.

"Which still doesn't have a name," Archer pointed out.

"I'm working on it!" Mallory snapped. "Just like I work on everything else! Like getting more missions from the CIA! This partnership isn't exactly going the way I thought it would."

"It's not a partnership," Pam pointed out. "The CIA took over our agency. It was a takeover! We work for them!"

"Semantics," Mallory waved.

"Hey Archer get some bags and stuff as well as some seasonings so we can take some of this home," Pam said as she grabbed a handful of popcorn and started eating.

"Even Pam can't eat all of this off the floor," Mallory sniffed.

"Why should I help clean up **your mess**?" Archer asked. "I'm not saying that I don't want to eat popcorn. It's just the principle of the thing."

"Hey it's either this or go down into the mail room," Pam snorted.

"I'll go get the butter and salt," Archer said.

"Oooh, I forgot about the mail room," Cheryl smirked. "Maybe I should…?"

"NO!" Everyone else shouted.

"The last thing we need is **another fire**!" Mallory snapped. "It's bad enough I had to spend money to repair the damages Krieger's last experiments made."

"How many times to I have to apologize for **that**?" Krieger groaned.

"Lots," Archer gave him a look.

"I'm going back into my office…" Mallory groaned as she left the room. "Suddenly the sounds of workmen fixing up the hole in the floor aren't so bad. It's better than the sounds of idiots doing idiot things."

"Better set aside some bags for Lana, Cyril and Ray…" Pam thought aloud. "I feel bad for those guys. Stuck in the mail room while we're having fun."

Meanwhile back in the mail room.

"Okay who wants to hear another love letter to Sterling Archer from one of his admirers?" Ray snickered as the three sat in a circle in the mail room. A couple of bottles of Glengoolie Blue were opened. There were also some opened letters.

"If it's anything like the one Trinette wrote to him complaining about child support I am all for it," Cyril giggled as he took a swig from his bottle. "Stupid Archer. Getting a hooker pregnant. How stupid can you get? Heh, heh…"

"I like the random ones from angry prostitutes better," Lana admitted as she took a small sip from a bottle.

"I thought you were breastfeeding?" Cyril asked.

"I am, but I'm not going to pass on prime Glengoolie Blue…" Lana put the bottle down. "Besides I only had a few sips. Not half a bottle like the two of you!"

"Well this is Archer's child," Cyril admitted. "Probably already has the taste for alcohol in her…OW! LANA!"

"Ass!" Lana hit him in the arm.

"Ah-hem!" Ray coughed loudly. "If I may? This one is really juicy!"

"Then go ahead," Lana told him.

"My dearest Sterling," Ray began dramatically. "It has been so long since we last saw each other. I still think about Miami."

"Gag!" Lana made a face.

"It has been a while but I have made myself a new life," Ray went on. "Maybe sometime you will come down and see your old friend Ramon."

 _ **"Ramon?"**_ Cyril gasped. "As in…?"

"Oh yes!" Lana started laughing hysterically. " **That's** the one!"

"The guy Archer made out with as he was…?" Cyril snickered.

"Yup," Lana laughed.

"And did he **like** it?" Ray teased as he laughed.

"Oh yeah he was totally into it," Lana nodded.

"I **knew** it," Ray snorted. "I knew that man would do anything with a pulse."

"And sometimes **without** a pulse if he's drunk enough," Cyril added. "Like the Fourth of Ju-Luau."

"Still in the top five of our most disturbing parties ever," Ray agreed.

"Go on with the letter Ray," Lana prodded.

"I could show you my new restaurant. There is plenty of room in my apartment," Ray read. "We could go to the beach and maybe some fishing? I must admit it is not easy starting over in the big city. It would be good to see a familiar face."

"As well as other body parts," Lana quipped.

"I do wish you would come to Miami," Ray went on. "I long to see you again. I still count you as one of my deepest and most cherished friends. Damn it, how come I don't get letters like this?"

"Oh my God," Lana laughed. "Archer getting a love letter from his man crush. Wait, was this before or after we went to Miami? Because if this letter was sent after…"

"Well it's dated just before the office shut down and the whole mess in Miami," Cyril pointed out. "So it's still possible that Ramon is dead."

"Possible but with our luck, not likely," Ray groaned.

"We'd better make sure Archer gets **that** letter," Lana pointed out. "I mean death threats are one thing. He gets them all the time so he won't care if a few go missing. But this…"

"Don't worry," Ray carefully folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. He used a small vial of envelope glue to reseal it.

"Good thing this place has some extra envelope glue. See? Just like new. Archer will never know," Ray casually threw the letter into the bin. "Then when he opens the letter you can tease him."

"That would be fun," Lana grinned. "Read another one Ray."

"This one looks good," Ray carefully opened another letter. He glanced at it. "Oh this **is** good!"

"What?" Cyril asked.

"This is from a Mrs. Heatherton Smythe-Bishop," Ray smirked. "To Mallory…"

"Oh boy..." Cyril readied himself.

"It starts…" Ray began. "You rotten old bitch…"

"I already like this woman," Cyril remarked.

"I want you to stop chasing after my husband," Ray read. "Not only is he clearly not interested in you, you are far too old to be acting like a common trollop!"

"Busted!" Cyril snorted.

"If you do not cease your lascivious behavior I will have no choice but to inform certain parties of your behavior and the behavior of your son," Ray went on. "Like how your son was caught in the fountain with Trudy Beekman's niece at the Bellagio Hotel three years ago!"

"Big deal," Lana waved. "Knowing Mallory she probably sent Archer after her on purpose just to annoy Beekman."

"And I will inform every one of your son's promiscuity and children he had out of wedlock," Ray read.

"HA! Boy this lady does **not** know Mallory at all!" Lana laughed. "I mean seriously it is going to take a lot more than **that** to get under her skin!"

"I will also inform everyone I know about your true age!" Ray said dramatically.

"That might do it," Lana amended.

"I managed to contact your mother and we both agree these shenanigans do not befit a…Oh my God **that's** her real age!" Ray's eyes widened. "And I will tell everyone your age unless you start behaving yourself. So stay away from my husband or else."

"So **that's** how old she is!" Cyril was stunned as they read it. "She doesn't look **that** old!"

"Must be all the alcohol that preserves her," Lana remarked.

"She is so going to explode when she reads this letter," Ray resealed it. "We just have to make sure we're not in the blast zone when she does."

"As much fun as it's been reading other people's mail and drinking all of Archer's alcohol shipments I think we'd better get back to work," Lana groaned as she got up.

"Technically we didn't drink **all** the alcohol packages for Archer," Ray pointed out. "Brett had one too."

"And there's like at least nine of them left for Archer. And Mallory…" Cyril added as they stood up. "Still…There's still a lot of mail we haven't gone through yet."

"We've only gone through half of it," Lana groaned. "There's still piles everywhere."

"Okay I've got a plan," Ray said. "Lana you sort the packages. That seems to be the smallest amount. Then you help Cyril sort the regular mail and bills. Anything that just says Archer and looks official give to Mallory. I'll do the magazines."

"Since there are a lot of magazines that makes sense," Cyril admitted.

"And half of them are just more porn so…" Ray shrugged.

"Most of these packages are for Krieger," Lana said. "Which really worries me. I'm afraid to know what's in them."

"Aren't we all," Ray groaned. "But this shouldn't take that much…"

Just then a beeping was heard. The outside door to the mail room opened and a pile of mail and packages flooded the floor.

"We're gonna need some bigger bins," Ray blinked.

A few more hours later…

"Finally. What took you so long?" Mallory growled as Lana rolled a huge bin on wheels full of mail into her office.

"Sorry. It took a while to figure out whose porn magazines were whose," Lana gave Mallory a look. "Hint, Archer and Pam share a lot of them."

"That would take a while," Mallory groaned. "Oh god are all of these mine?"

"Yup," Lana said as she parked the bin next to her desk.

"And are all these **bills**?" Mallory did a double take.

"Ninety percent of them," Lana admitted. "Some are summons. Death threats. A few magazines…I put all the magazines for you on top. At least you'll have some light reading for the rest of the year."

"I really should have stopped the mail when I shut down the office," Mallory groaned as she looked through the large pile. "Well technically I stopped my mail when I changed my address to San Marcos but then I changed it back…Ugh."

"Yeah there's a lot of reading we all have to do," Lana remarked. "For Archer and Pam not as much reading as there is…looking at pictures."

"Well at least I don't have any god awful issues of Working Mother Monthly," Mallory remarked. "I hated that piece of self-congratulatory crap!"

"Really?" Lana asked.

"Trudy Beekman got me a twenty year subscription as a joke!" Mallory hissed.

"That explains that," Lana remarked to herself.

Fortunately Mallory didn't pay attention. "My God! How could this pile up? And…Why am **I** getting bills for Whore Island Party Monthly Magazine? STERLING!"

"Hey Lana I think I'm missing a few magazines," Archer walked in. "I could have sworn…"

"You ass!" Mallory shouted as she threw her glass at him.

"Whoa! Mother? What the hell?" Archer yelled as he dodged it.

"Look at all these bills!" Mallory pointed. "Do you have any idea how much you are costing me in stupid porn alone?"

"Well I think I'm missing some," Archer grumbled. "Are you sure this is all of it? I only have like a hundred magazines and I could have sworn…"

"Oh you want a magazine?" Mallory's eye twitched. She looked at her pile. "Here's a big fat one! Vogue is always a heavy hitter!" She grabbed it and partially rolled it up.

"Actually I was looking for my Whore Island…YEOWW!" Archer shouted as Mallory went over and started whacking him with the magazine. "MOTHER!"

"USELESS! PORN OBSESSED…." Mallory yelled as she started to chase her son out of the office. "I'LL TEACH YOU TO SPEND MY MONEY ON WHORES!"

"OW! OW! OW! MOTHER! OWWWWW!"

"Huh. I should do the mail more often," Lana grinned.


End file.
